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knocking the branches together like bones； could hear it shrieking coldly in the spaces between the buildings。
2
'That guy's ing；' Jack said tensely。 It was an hour or so later。 'Etheridge's Twinner。'
'Huzzzat？'
'Never mind；' Jack said。 'Go back to sleep。 You don't want to see。'
But Richard was sitting up。 Before his eye could fix on the slumped； somehow twisted form walking toward Nelson House； it was abducted by the campus itself。 He was profoundly shocked； deeply frightened。
The ivy on the Monkson Field House； which had that morning been skeletal but still faintly green； had now gone an ugly； blighted yellow。 'Sloat！ Give us your passenger！'
Suddenly all Richard wanted to do was to go back to sleep…go to sleep until his flu was all gone （he had awakened deciding it must be the flu； not just a chill or fever but a real case of the flu）； the flu and the fever that was giving him such horrid； twisted hallucinations。 He should never have stood by that open window 。 。 。 or； earlier； allowed Jack through the window of his room。 Richard thought this； and was then deeply and immediately ashamed。
3
Jack shot a quick sideways glance at Richard…but his pallid face and bulging eyes suggested to Jack that Richard was edging farther and farther into The Magical Land of Overload。
The thing out there was short。 It stood on the frost…whitened grass like a troll that had crawled out from under some bridge； its long…clawed hands hanging almost to its knees。 It wore an Army duffel coat with ETHERIDGE stencilled above the left pocket。 The jacket hung unzipped and open。 Beneath it； Jack could see a torn and rumpled Pendleton shirt。 A dark stain which might have been either blood or vomit was splashed over one side。 It was wearing a rumpled blue tie with tiny gold upper…case E's woven into the rep fabric； a couple of burrs were stuck on it like grotesque tie…tacks。
Only half of this new Etheridge's face worked right。 There was dirt in its hair and leaves on its clothes。
'Sloat！ Give us your passenger！'
Jack looked down at Etheridge's freakish Twinner again。 He was caught and held by its eyes； which were somehow vibrating in their sockets； like tuning forks moving rapidly in their lab…mounts。 He had to work to drag his eyes away。
'Richard！' he grunted。 'Don't look in its eyes。'
Richard didn't reply； he was staring down at the grinning troll…version of Etheridge with drugged and pallid interest。
Scared； Jack butted his friend with his shoulder。
'Oh；' Richard said。 Abruptly he snatched up Jack's hand and pressed it against his forehead。 'How hot do I feel？' he demanded。
Jack pulled his hand away from Richard's forehead； which was a bit warm but no more。
'Pretty hot；' he lied。
'I knew it；' Richard said with real relief。 'I'm going to the infirmary pretty soon； Jack。 I think I need an antibiotic。'
'Give him to us； Sloat！'
'Let's get the bureau in front of the window；' Jack said。
'You're in no danger； Sloat！' Etheridge called。 It grinned reassuringly…the right half of its face grinned reassuringly； anyway； the left half only continued its corpselike gape。
'How can it look so much like Etheridge？' Richard asked with unsettling； eerie calmness。 'How can its voice e through the glass so clearly？ What's wrong with its face？' His voice sharpened a little and recovered some of its earlier dismay as he asked a final question； one which seemed to be at that moment the most vital question of all； at least to Richard Sloat： 'Where did it get Etheridge's tie； Jack？'
'I don't know；' Jack said。 We're back on Seabrook Island for sure； Richie…boy； and I think we're gonna boogy till you puke。
'Give him to us； Sloat； or we'll e in and get him！'
The Etheridge…thing showed its single fang in a ferocious cannibal's grin。
'Send your passenger out； Sloat； he's dead！ He's dead and if you don't send him out soon； you'll smell him when he starts to stink！'
'Help me move the frigging bureau！' Jack hissed。
'Yes；' Richard said。 'Yes； okay。 We'll move the bureau and then I'll lie down； and maybe later I'll go over to the infirmary。 What do you think； Jack？ What do you say？ Is that a good plan？' His face begged Jack to say it was a good plan。
'We'll see；' Jack said。 'First things first。 The bureau。 They might throw stones。'
4
Soon after； Richard began to mutter and moan in the sleep which had overtaken him again。 That was bad enough； then tears began to squeeze from the corners of his eyes and that was worse。
'I can't give him up；' Richard moaned in the weepy； bewildered voice of a five…year…old。 Jack stared at him； his skin cold。 'I can't give him up； I want my daddy； please someone tell me where my daddy is； he went into the closet but he's not in the closet now； I want my daddy； he'll tell me what to do； please…'
A rock came crashing through the window。 Jack screamed。
It boomed against the back of the bureau in front of the window。 A few splinters of glass flew through the gaps to the left and right of the bureau and shattered into smaller pieces on the floor。
'Give us your passenger； Sloat！'
'Can't；' Richard moaned； writhing inside the blanket。
'Give him to us！' another laughing； howling voice from outside screamed。 'We'll take him back to Seabrook Island； Richard！ Back to Seabrook Island； where he belongs！'
Another rock。 Jack ducked instinctively； although this rock also bounced off the back of the bureau。 Dogs howled and yapped and snarled。
'No Seabrook Island；' Richard was muttering in his sleep。 'Where's my daddy？ I want him to e out of that closet！ Please； please； no Seabrook Island stuff； PLEASE…'
Then Jack was on his knees； shaking Richard as hard as he dared； telling him to wake up； it was just a dream； wake up； for Christ's sake； wake up！
'Pleeze…pleeze…pleeze。' A hoarse； inhuman chorus of voices rose outside。 The voices sounded like a chorus of manimals from Wells's Island of Dr。 Moreau。
'Way…gup； way…gup； way…gup！' a second chorus responded。
Dogs howled。
A flurry of stones flew； knocking more glass from the window； bonking against the back of the bureau； making it rock。
'DADDY'S IN THE CLOSET！' Richard screamed。 'DADDY； E OUT； PLEASE E OUT； I'M AFRAID！'
'Pleeze…pleeze…pleeze！'
'Way…gup； way…gup； way…gup！'
Richard's hands waving in the air。
Stones flying； striking the bureau； soon a rock big enough to either punch straight through the cheap piece of furniture or to simply knock it over on top of them would e through the window； Jack thought。
Outside； they laughed and bellowed and chanted in their hideous troll…voices。 Dogs…packs of them now； it seemed…howled and growled。
'DADEEEEEEEEE…！！' Richard screamed in a chilling； rising voice。
Jack slapped him。
Richard's eyes jerked open。 He stared up at Jack for a moment with a dreadful lack of recognition； as if the dream he'd been having had burned away his sanity。 Then he pulled in a long； shaking breath and let it out in a sigh。
'Nightmare；' he said。 'Part of the fever； I guess。 Horrible。 But I don't remember exactly what it was！' he added sharply； as if Jack might ask him this at any moment。
'Richard； I want us to get out of this room；' Jack said。
'Out of this…？' Richard looked at Jack as though he must be crazy。 'I can't do that； Jack。 I'm running a fever of 。 。 。 it must be a hundred and three at least； might be a hundred and four or five。 I can't…'
'You've got a degree of fever at most； Richard；' Jack said calmly。 'Probably not even that…'
'I'm burning up！' Richard protested。
'They're throwing stones； Richard。'
'Hallucinations can't throw stones； Jack；' Richard said； as if explaining some simple but vital fact to a mental defective。 'That's Seabrook Island stuff。 It's…'
Another volley of rocks flew through the window。
'Send out your passenger； Sloat！'
'e on； Richard；' Jack said； getting the other boy to his feet。 He led him to the door and outside。 He felt enormously sorry for Richard now…perhaps not as sorry as he had felt for Wolf 。 。 。 but he was getting there。
'No 。 。 。 sick 。 。 。 fever 。 。 。 I can't 。 。 。'
More rocks thudded against the bureau behind them。 Richard shrieked and clutched at Jack like a boy who is drowning。
Wild； cackling laughter from outside。 Dogs howled and fought with each other。
Jack saw Richard's white face grow whiter still； saw him sway； and got up in a hurry。 But he was not quite in time to catch Richard before he collapsed in Reuel Gardener's doorway。
5
It was a simple fainting spell； and Richard came around quickly enough when Jack pinched the delicate webbings between his thumbs and forefingers。 He would not talk about what was outside…affected； in fact； not to know what Jack was talking about。
They moved cautiously down the hallway toward the stairs。 At the mon room Jack poked his head in and whistled。 'Richard； look at this！'
Richard looked reluctantly in。 The mon room was a shambles。 Chairs were overturned。 The cushions on the couch had been slashed open。 The oil portrait of Elder Thayer on the far wall had been defaced…someone had crayoned a pair of devil's horns poking out of his neat white hair； someone else had added a moustache under his nose； and a third had used a nail…file or similar implement to scratch a crude phallus on his crotch。 The glass of the trophy case was shattered。
Jack didn't much care for the look of drugged； unbelieving horror on Richard's face。 In some ways； elves trooping up and down the halls in glowing； unearthly platoons or dragons over the quad would have been easier for Richard to take than this constant erosion of the Thayer School he had e to know and love 。 。 。 the Thayer School Richard undoubtedly believed to be noble and good； an undisputed bulwark against a world where nothing could be counted on for long 。 。 。 not even； Jack thought； that fathers would e back out of the closets they had gone into。
'Who did this？' Richard asked angrily。 'Those freaks did it；' he answered himself。 'That's who。' He looked at Jack； a great； cloudy suspicion beginning to dawn on his face。 'They might be Colombians；' he said suddenly。 'They might be Colombians； and this might be some sort of drug…war； Jack。 Has that occurred to you？'
Jack had to throttle an urge to bellow out mad gusts of laughter。 Here was an explanation which perhaps only Richard Sloat could have conceived。 It was the Colombians。 The cocaine range…wars had e to Thayer School in Springfield； Illinois。 Elementary； my dear Watson； this problem has a seven and a half percent solution。
'I guess anything's possible；' Jack said。 'Let's take a look upstairs。'
'What in God's name for？'
'Well 。 。 。 maybe we'll find someone else；' Jack said。 He didn't really believe this； but it was something to say。 'Maybe someone's hiding out up there。 Someone normal like us。'
Richard looked at Jack； then back at the shambles of the mon room。 That look of haunted pain came back into his face again； the look that said I don't really want to look at this； but for some reason it seems to be all I DO want to look at right now； it's bitterly pulsive； like biting a lemon； or scratching your fingernails across a blackboard； or scraping the tines of a fork on the porcelain of a sink。
'Dope is rampant in the country；' Richard said in eerie lecture…hall tones。 'I read an article on drug proliferation in The New Republic just last week。 Jack； all those people out there could be doped up！ They could be freebasing！ They could be…'
'e on； Richard；' Jack said quietly。
'I'm not sure I can climb the stairs；' Richard said； weakly querulous。 'My fever may be too bad for me to climb stairs。'
'Well； give it the good old Thayer try；' Jack said； and continued to lead him in that direction。
6
As they reached the second…floor landing； sound bled back into the smooth； almost breathless silence that had held inside Nelson House。
Dogs snarled and barked outside…it sounded as if there were not just dozens or scores of them now； but hundreds。 The bells in the chapel burst into a wild jangle of so